Save Me, Steve
by marvelchomper
Summary: What if every time you remember something from your past, it gets wiped away again by your own brain, causing you to hate the one you love and kill the ones you saved.
1. Prologue- Bucky

"Bucky" The voice said.

"Bucky" The voice said again, louder this time and dragging me out from the darkness that just a few seconds ago had seemed so warm and comforting.

"Bucky can you hear me?" The low, raspy voice murmured, obviously trying to sooth me but the sense of urgency behind his plea made me uncomfortable. Way to go, mystery man.

"Bucky if you can hear me, please give me a sign, any kind of sign that you can; I'm begging you here." His voice was so demanding and more urgent than before. What is this guy's problem?

With a huge amount of wasted effort, I opened my eyes. the vast amount of light attacked my eyeballs, leaving me blind for a few milliseconds until it faded, allowing me to see the hospital bed I was lying in- wait a minute!

Hospital bed?! Why the fuck was I in a hospital bed?!


	2. 1- Steve

p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family:  
Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;  
text-align: justify;"I could see him panicking as he looked around the white, sterile room that had been his prison for many months in absolute horror. I wanted so badly to put my hand over his one which was covered in needles feeding him medication in disgusting colours, but I knew it would just freak him out even more./p 


	3. 2- Bucky

"Who was I, Steve?" I pleaded, staring into those bottomless blue eyes of his. Those _familiar _bottomless blue eyes of his.

My head was pounding like crazy, like someone was driving a knife slowly through my temple and striaight into my brain. I could see how devastated he was at my crude remarks, and something deep inside of me wanted to jump up from the stiff hospital bed sheets and wrap my arms tight around his neck.

What the hell is wrong with me? I'm not gay, hell no! And I can't remember ever being gay.. or can I?

Wow my head is fucked up, and I mean _really_ fucked up. What's worse is that it's all so unclear, uncertain. What's real inside my head may well be some stupid lie that some shitbag has manipulated me into thinking is true, and what's actually real has been drummed into me as being an absurd lie.

"We aren't enemies, Bucky. Well, we didn't used to be." He said, his eyes full with and old sadness that yet again unleashed the desire within me to comfort him.

"Then what were we?" I whispered. I wanted to see what he would say, if he would come clean about us or he would break it to me mildly.

"We were.. friends- best friends." He just stuttered, avoiding my gaze and instead focused on his hands lying awkwardly in his lap.

In that moment there was one thing about him that I was certain of.

He was a terrible liar.

It made me want to slap him in the face and tell him to get over it, to tell me everthing about who I used to be. About who _we_ used to be.

"Oh," I said quietly, unsure of what to say. I couldn't help but feel hurt at his denial of our.. former relationship, I mean he looked buff as hell but he certainly didn't act it.

But right then, I could see he was a broken man, completely shattered because he had lost the most important man in his life, and when he had found him he was nothing more then a vicious man with a blank brain, chained to a hospital bed for god knows how long before he finally resurfaced.

"We'd been friends since we were just boys, we grew up together," Steve began, the massive amount of effort it took for him to keep composed was clear in his slouching muscles. "We went to the same schools, chased the same girls," He said, letting out a small snigger at the mention of girls.

_Inside joke, _I noted. _Probably one of ours._

_"_We were inseperable, you would rarely see us apart, I tell you. When we left education, we both even wanted the same job, to join-"

"The army." I remembered. _I remembered_. Steve looked up, staring into my eyes with an expression that could only be described as hope. Sheer, unbreakable hope. Poor guy.

"The army," He agreed, a sparkle in his eyes that made my stomach flutter. Guess I'm no tougher than he is. "Of course, you got accepted right away, but me? Don't you remember?"

This time I tried, I really tried. I forced myself to imagine me wearing an army uniform, marching, even fighting. But all there was just darkness. The pain was sheer hell, ripping at my head like it didn't want me to remember. Fuck you, brain.

Steve could see me struggling, my pain mirrored in his eyes. "Well, I was short, thin, brittle as a stick. They were never gonna accept me, never in a thousand years. But I kept trying. Everyday I would go down to the signups and everyday I would be turned away."

He turned away, trying to hide from me the fresh little tears that were escaping from his eyes. Even though I felt sorry for him, he was still a wimp. A big wimp. He took a few long moments to recollect himself before he turned back to me, his eyes never quite meeting mine.

"You really don't remember? Not even when I was a scrawny little lad?" He pestered, his voice more urgent and irritating.

"No. I remember, I remember.." It was so difficult. The darkness kept begging for me to let it in, and this time it was winning. It crawled into my eyes, hazing my eyesight and leaving behind a muddy-like remnant that was freaking painful. Steve looked at me like a bloody big puppy dog, waiting, hoping. "You. I fought you, and I was winning. I was kicking your sorry ass!" I yelled, making Steve flinch back in his chair.

I was angry. So fucking angry.

"You were nothing, the great Captain America beaten by his old lover!" I mocked, each word thick with venom. "You're not my friend, you're my _enemy." _

"No, I'm not, Bucky-"

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" I screamed, frustration clear in my voice. Who the fuck does he think he is, calling me stupid made up names like he owns me. "I told you! I don't know who the fuck Bucky is and why the fuck you keep thinking I'm him! Grow a pair!"

I tugged against the annoying shit holding me down, it couldn't keep my metal arm down forever, I knew that much.

I could see that he was panicking, and I hope that he keeps panicking long enough for me to bash his brains in.

"Please just listen to-"

"No! I've listened to enough of your shit already and I've had enough! Goddam it, I should have finished you off on that Helicarrier, I SHOULD HAVE LET YOU DROWN!" I laughed when I saw his broken expression, when the few walls he still had placed around himself came crumbling down like I'd just swung a wrecking ball at them. "I suggest you leave me the fuck alone, I'm sick of hearing your lies and your twisted stories." I dismissed him curtly. Wow that felt good.

The man that stood before me wasn't a man anymore, he was a boy. A boy in a man's body, broken and ruined beyond repair at my hand. Or metal hand, I'm not that fussed which. The amount of effort it took for him to rise from the chair beside me and slowly walk towards the door was unbelievable.

He wasn't moving fast enough, in my opinion.

He said nothing, he just looked back at me with the expression of a man who had no will to live. None at all.

As the door swung shut behind him, emptiness suddenly filled the room, replacing all my anger with loneliness and doubt.

I angrily shoved the big red button on the wall with my fist, and laid back as the fresh morphine flowed into my system and eased my pain. But only the physical pain.


	4. 3- Steve

"It's not his fault, Steve. Don't blame him," Natasha tried to sooth me, her hand rubbing in circles on my back.

"Yeah, yeah I know. I just panicked, and the look he gave me! I tell you, it send shivers down my spine. I said, focusin on my hands in fists on my lap.

"This is HYDRA, remember, not Bucky. They've manipulated him in the worst way possible, like Loki did with Eric and.. and-"

"Barton." I finished, sensing her hesitiation and the memories of Barton trying to kill her.

"Remember when you knocked him out cold?" I chuckled, and I felt her join in my laughter beside me.

"Those were the days," she said breathlessly, standing up off the leather sofa and walking over to the kitchen where she stood with her back facing away from me, making us both a cup of coffee.

Natasha Romanoff's apartment was, to put it bluntly, plain. The decor was strictly cream with a splash of red showing in her furniture; a red lampshade over there, a red blanket over here, and so on.

I liked it, it showed that she had taste but she wasn't prissy or girly or obsessed with having too much junk.

The large leather sofa I sat on was the darkest shade of black you could find, making it stand out form the rest of the objects and furniture around it. Falcon was slouched in a big armchair in the corner of the room facing me, light snores accompanying his heavy breathing.

Whe the coffee was ready and my ears hurt from the snoring that was gradually getting louder, Natasha handed me my mug before she grabbed a saucepan and wooden spoon and marched over to Falcon where she banged the objects together right in front of his face.

It was an understatment saying that he jumped 2 metres in the air, I swear he nearly crashed through the roof!

"Wake up, Falcon!" Natasha yelled, a huge grin on her face. I could barely breathe for laughing so hard.

"You scream like such a girl," I managed to chuckle, Falcon's facial expression making me laugh even harder. Thank god I was Captain America, I would have died from asthma otherwise.

"That wasn't funny! That was like the best nap of my life and you guys just ruined it!" Falcon grumpily remarked. _like a little kid, _I mentally noted.

"Well I haven't laughed like that since 1943," I remarked, wiping tears away from my eyes. Falcon threw me an angry look, then settled back in his armchair with the mug of coffee cradled in his hands.

"Well it's nice to have your friends around you," he mumbled sarcastically, staring into his coffee mug.

Natasha sat down on the sofa opposite me, studying my face as she took a sip of her coffee.

"So what are you gonna do about Bucky?" She said, and my heart faltered like it did the last time Bucky rejected me.

"I don't know, I honestly don't know." I replied. "It's been 2 years since S.H.I.E.L.D fell, 2 years! And when I think he's making progress, he just lapses back into this vicious fighting machine that HYDRA created. It 's wearing me out fast, I'm telling ya."

"But what els can we do?" Falcon said, "We've tried everything!"

"Not everything," Natasha murmured.

"Not everything?" I said, hope sparking in my voice. "What's there left to try?"

"Well," Natasha began, taking a deep breath, "all we've tried is just focused around us telling him stuff about his and your past, but what if we _showed _him?"

Now Natasha has lost me completely.

"Show him? What the hell are you trying to say?" Falcon said before I could.

"You know that Captain America museum-"

"Exhibition, Natasha." Falcon lazily corrected her.

"Whatever, it's basically a museum. You know the _exhibition _thing? The one with all-"

"All my old stuff from that time period." I realised where Natasha was going with this.

"Exactly! And it has sections on Bucky, too. It's literally got all the information we need to prove to Bucky who he really is." She finished, beaming. I couldn't blame her for being proud, I wish I'd thought of that damn museum.

"I say we should give it a shot, I mean even if he still denies it, it's bound to spark something in him, isn't it?" Falcon said excitedly, forgetting all about being grumpy because we woke him from 'the best nap of his life.'

For the first time in such a long time, I began to feel clear, unbelieveably strong free hope. Hope that, somehow, seeing all the relics and objects and little knick knacks from so many years ago will bring Bucky back, even if it's just in fragments, it's a start.

"Are you ready?" Natasha said, standing above me in her slimming Black Widow suit, Falcon behind her pulling his wings over his shoulders onto his back.

"Wait, we're going right now?" I said, confused.

"Yeah, there's no time to lose. If we can get him back to himself sooner then the better. Don't you want that?"

"Yeah of course, but-"

"But nothing. Suit up, stripey boy." Falcon shouted, already running out of the apartment and down the stairs.

"But I don't have my suit?" I realised, idiotically looking around Natasha's lounge.

Natasha was as quick as a flash; by the time I had stopped fooling around she was already stood in front of me, chucking an old Captain America suit into my hands.

What?

"Why do you have one of my suits at your apartment?" I wondered, eyeing the suit that had been flung at me with great force.

"I took it, you know, from your exhibition. I've been planning this for a long time." She winked at me, and I smiled hazily. Of course she had.

I began to unbutton my shirt to change into my suit when I noticed she was still stood there staring at me.

"D'you mind?" I said irritantly. She just smiled and walked out the door after Falcon.

"Don't take too long, Cap." She called after she had walked out and shut the front door behind her.

Russians, eh..


	5. 4- Bucky

p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family:  
Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;  
text-align: justify;"Today they let me get out of the hospital bed and sit in the armchair which was even more uncomfortable than the bed damn it./p 


	6. 5- Steve

p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family:  
Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;  
text-align: justify;"He lunged at me./p 


End file.
